Kris paired the guards stroke at the last moment, her sword transmitting the jarring impact up her arm. The dunmer screamed at her in his own langauge and launched a savage series of cuts at her head and neck. Kris could feel herself slowing, the overwhelming desire for vengeance sated causing her body to begin to relax. This was a terrible time for that to be happening. She barely managed to avoid his riposte, skipping backwards and delivering a clumsy cut which he batted aside  with contemptuous ease. The Dunmer laughed and closed in for the kill. Kris surged forward, taking him by surprise and slipping inside his reach. There was no room for a clean strike so she smashed the hilt of her sword into his face feeling his nose break beneath the leather wrapped hit. The elf jumped backwards and drew back his sword to finish her. Kris desperately tried to bring up her blade but she knew she was going to be too slow. There was a flash of steel and a sound like a melon splitting as Dax split the Dunmer’s head from crown to jaw with a vast overhand stroke that sprayed Kris with slimy gray matter and shattered links of chainmail.

“Time to go,” the Argonian hissed.

“Right,” Kris agreed, gasping to try to fill her lungs. There were still guards trying to make their way up the stairs so they ran back through the halls till the found a window. Kris climbed out onto the roof of what might have been a carriage house with Dax close behind.

“Before we go,” she gasped, “I think I owe you a fire.”

A dozen mansions blazed as Kris and dax slipped down to the streets. Kris didn’t have alot of skill with destruction magic but she was a Breton and she knew the theory. A few bolts of flame into thatched roofs and priceless wooden mouldings got things blazing nicely. Kris was so weary after the battle and the magic she could barely move but there was no safety so long as they were in the city. Already the alarm claxons were ringing constantly calling the watch to help try to contain the fires Kris had started. It wouldn’t be long before one of those watchmen spotted a Breton and an Argonian and started asking questions. The made there way down hill towards harbor, the sea water already reflecting the fires above.  There were several ships in harbor including several longships from Skyrim which Kris hoped would carry them east for the little bit of coin she had left, or failing that take them on as crew to work their passage. That depended on them getting there before the harbor closed of course.

The land flattened as they reached the bottom of the crag on which the city was built and the arcitecture became more akin to what Kris was used to from Colovia and the heartland of the Empire. The rooves were still steeply pitched to ward of snow, but the waterfront seemed somehow less alien. Quite a number of people were out on the street gawking at the fires but no one seemed to be looking for them specifically. Kris closed her hand and whispered the scouts spell, allowing her magikca to restore her stamina enough to keep moving. Finally they reached a tavern with a sign depicting a one eyed horker.

“In here,” she whispered to Dax who, despite the spell, was all but carrying the exhausted Breton.